Territoriality
by the morrighan
Summary: Defending one's territory involves some collateral damages. Author's note: You may want to have a tissue handy.
1. Chapter 1

Territoriality

White.

John Sheppard's field of vision was full of the color. As his face was crammed into the pillow. He closed his eyes again, but woke. Yawned. Stretched languidly, rolling onto his back. Enjoying the sheer comfort of the bed but felt constrained. Felt the absence of Moira beside him. The lack of her warm curves pressing against him. His arm was pulled up to the headboard. His uninjured wrist tied there by a silken green ribbon. He smiled. Laughed aloud. "Moira?"

He knew she wasn't there. Could tell by the silence in the sunny room. He scooted up to untie himself. Amused. Titillated. Desirous. A swirl of emotions hit him. Emotions running deeper than the physical ones. The sexual ones. He sighed, thinking. A frown crossing his handsome face as he wrapped the green ribbon around his finger. He lazily slid under the blankets again.

Folded his arms under the pillows.

Closed his eyes as if to block his thoughts. Shove down all the emotions. But he knew what he had to do. Knew he had to break it off. It had advanced beyond the sex. The sex was a big part, the attraction magnetic, undeniable. Enjoyable. Pleasurable. But the emotional attachment was growing. He found himself wanting to do things for her. To make her happy. To spend more time with her. He sighed. Cursed silently in his head. Freed his arms to pick at his lower lip. At the scab. "Ow!" He scowled in uncertainty.

***********************************************************************

Moira O'Meara studied the holoscreen. A map of the mainland's coastline was on display. A cut-away of the geographic composition, dipping beneath the ocean. "Can you zoom in there?" She pointed to a dramatic cliff face.

Rodney McKay nodded. Hit a button. "The coastline where we found that hatch. It's got quite a drop, as you can tell. That red pulse is where the cave is. Was," he corrected.

"Centuries of erosion," Julie Armstrong noted, flinging her blond hair over her shoulder as she leaned to examine the scan. "The whole edifice of that cliff will be gone within a hundred years. Looks like limestone?"

"On the surface, yes," Rodney confirmed.

"That," Evan Lorne pointed, "looks like an outlet. To the sea. We may have a problem."

"Go wider, Rodney," Elizabeth Weir instructed. She frowned. "What worries me is this. And this." She pointed to varying spots on the screen. "A series of interconnected caverns, all under the sea and with access to the ocean. Access potentially to the city. Could those things swim that far to reach us?"

Moira shrugged as all eyes turned to her. "Maybe. If they need a food source, and now realize that we are here...it is possible. I don't know if they are a wholly aquatic or semi-aquatic species."

"We'll need to seal them off. The caves. One by one," Evan realized. Glanced at Julie but she was staring at the scan, pensive expression on her face.

"No no no no no!" Rodney objected, shaking his finger at Evan as if the major was a schoolboy. "We'll need to inventory them first!" He glanced at Elizabeth before she could object. "For Ancient tech! I mean old Ancient tech. If we can gather that we may be able to figure out the more complicated systems...by retro engineering. And if there's a chance, however remote that we could find a working ZPM we have to check! And if there is I could get those systems up and running to protect the city!"

"No, Rodney, we've been over this. The threat those things represent is too serious to ignore. As is the threat of those systems. I don't want to risk another Jumper being shot down," Elizabeth decided. She raised a hand to forestall the scientist's objection. "We can scan for energy readings first, but I don't want anyone going down–"

"Going down?" John asked, joining the discussion. His gaze swept over the group, pausing briefly on Moira whose back was to him. "Hmm...going down...I know all about that, going down. Don't I, Moira? Oh wait, you know a little..."

Moira tensed. Hearing his voice, the odd mixture of teasing merriment and something else. An odd undertone. She felt a blush warming her cheeks and did not turn to face him. "John?"

"Yes, sir," Evan smoothly intervened, "into the cave systems. I think we should go completely under the ocean, then come up into the caves that way. We'll be protected in the Jumper from any, um, psychic interference."

"That's...that's brilliant!" Rodney finally decided. "We could see everything! I mean the consoles and any Ancient tech, and the energy readings can direct us to pinpoint the locations of any ZPMs we–" he spoke rapidly, afraid his prurient interest might be realized.

"I think so, too. Major Lorne, take a team to–" Elizabeth began.

"No!" Moira looked at Elizabeth. "It would be better with less, less men. Less people. The visual, um, stimulation is how they initiate their, um, thrall," she tried to explain awkwardly. "Evan and I can go. Like he said we'll be safer in the Jumper and if we need to get out to retrieve data or a ZPM I could go."

"No."

At John's mild objection all eyes moved to him. "Colonel? You have a problem with this?" Elizabeth asked. A testing glint in her eyes. A challenge unspoken. Expected.

John replied, "Yes. Frankly you're going to need a damn good pilot to execute those kinds of maneuvers under water. Especially with a shield and limited visibility. And when you fire your drones to seal those caves you'll need precision and accuracy."

Elizabeth smirked. "And that would be you, I'm guessing?"

John shrugged but answered, "Yeah."

"Well, it's settled then," Rodney decided. "You can fly the Jumper and I can do the scans."

"No," John refused.

"I agree," Elizabeth stated. "You're not going, Rodney. There's no need for you to go."

"What? Of course there is! And yes, I'm thinking clearly, rationally, so don't accuse me of anything, anything other than a purely scientific interest here!"

"What she means, Rodney, is that it's reckless. Needlessly dangerous and we can't risk losing you on what is basically a search and destroy mission. Me, on the other hand, well, it's right up my alley. And Moira...Moira because apparently she's expendable."

"John!" Elizabeth objected. "I never said–"

"No, don't worry. It's my job, I accept that. Moira! Let's go!" John snapped. Turned to leave.

"John!" Elizabeth called to his rapidly striding form. "You can't–"

"I'll be fine!" he called as he headed across the room. "Moira's got my ass covered, doesn't she, Rodney? Let's go, Moira!" He glanced over his shoulder. Expression stern.

"We will seal all of the cave entrances!" Moira assured, hastening after him, exchanging a puzzled glance with Evan. She rushed after him. His long strides crossing the hallways in record time. "John! John, what is it now? John!"

"Not now! Come on! Move that pert little ass!" he snapped over his shoulder. Not bothering to look at her as they reached the Jumper bay.

"John! Why are you angry? Why are you angry with me? What the hell is wrong with you? What? John!" She grabbed his arm, nearly falling but caught herself as he finally stopped. "Didn't you, didn't you like the joke I played on you this morning?"

"I loved it," he said tersely. Glancing at her. He pulled her into a Jumper. Slammed the hatch shut. "And I would have expected you to follow up on it." Cursing he moved to the pilot seat. "Strap in!" He powered the ship. Systems flared to life almost violently, as if reacting to his mood. "This is Colonel Sheppard. Open the hatch." He heard the confirmation. Waited. "Moira! Get your pert little ass up here now!"

"No! Damn it, John, what is wrong with you?" she demanded. Staring after him, frozen in place. She stumbled as the ship began to rise off the floor. She could feel the slight vibration in the soles of her feet. "John!" She swore, hastened to the co-pilot's seat and strapped the belt over her. Glared at him. "John!"

"We have a problem, Moira," he informed. Guided the ship up, up, then accelerated towards the blue sky. He zoomed over the city, heading out across the rippling waves of the blue ocean. He brought the HUD to life. "Here's the map. We'll go in thirty klicks due west, dive under, emerge and go from there. I'm detecting no energy readings yet but the scan will run continuously. Shields will be at maximum." He glanced at her.

Moira was staring at him. Brown eyes wide, full of suspicion, alarm. Dread. She kept silent. Body tense. Eyed the viewport as they flew over the waters. The waves were sparkling shades of blue and green. Sunlight danced upon them, almost blinding.

"It's not you, sweetheart. It's me," John finally said, breaking the terse silence.

"Something's happened. To you," she surmised. Gaze locked on the ocean.

"Yes. Here we go. Shielding at maximum." The ship dove slowly into the waves. Submerged. A gentle bump rippled the shield as the water pressure encompassed them. Sunlight grew dim. Dimmer as they dove. The ship's lights flared to life, illuminating the blue waters. Fish swam out of the way, appearing alarmed at this strange intrusion. John activated the HUD. Swerved right. The darkness grew as they dove deeper. Deeper still, towards the bottom. "Approaching the cliffs." He slowed the craft, easing it gently on the bottom of the ocean. "We'll have to wait for the sediment to clear. So far no energy readings." He checked the displays, the map overlapping the scans. The instruments. Avoiding looking at her. "We should be right in front of the ingress point. Just under, down, and up." He paused. "Under. Down. And up." He drew out each word slowly. Deliberately.

Moira shifted in her seat, the sensual undertone unmistakable. She glared at the waters surrounding them, subduing her reactions. "So? Are you going to tell me your problem? Yours. Because it certainly isn't mine!"

"True." He licked his lips. Looked at her. She was staring fixedly at nothing outside the viewport. "You. You were right, Moira. It's gotten...gotten out of control. I don't mean the sex. The sex is fucking amazing! Fantastic! It keeps getting better and better, no matter when, or where, or even how. What position, what rhythm, what–"

"Focus, John!" she snapped. "The problem?" She braced herself. Suspecting what was coming. Knew it had been inevitable. Knew she shouldn't be surprised. Her gut clenched.

"It's not the sex," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "In fact if all we had was the sex everything would be fine. Ironic, huh?"

She sighed. "Care to explain that, John?"

"Things have escalated, Moira," he continued. Staring at her. Glad she wasn't looking at him, but wishing she would at the same time. "We have to...we have to break this off. Now. Trust me. When I start having...having feelings things go south. Fast. You're in love with me, Moira, you've said it yourself. But what's worse is that I...I...I'm in love with you, Moira. And trust me, that's not good. That means things will get worse. They always have when I've let myself fall for someone. So I don't let it happen. But you...you and I have this, I don't know, this connection, this vibe beyond the intense sexual attraction. I've tried to fight it, but I can't. It just gets worse. So that's why. We have to, to end it. End this. I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, but it's better now then later when we're too deeply involved to make a clean break. You understand, don't you? I mean, you can see the logic of it, right?" He braced himself, expecting tears. Expecting upset expressions.

Moira absorbed it all. Every word, every emotion in his voice. She met his gaze. Angry. Very angry. "That's it? That's the reason?" she snapped, dumbfounded. "Carson was right! You are an idiot!"

"What?" he asked, startled by her vehemence. The lack of tears.

Moira stood. Glaring at him. "You want to break up with me because, God forbid, you actually have feelings for me? That you've, you've fallen in love with me? What the hell is wrong with you, John? What an asinine reason to break us up!"

He scowled. "Look, Moira, I–"

"No! You look! If it was because of this pressure, this flak you keep getting from your bosses I might understand, but I'd think you'd at least have the balls to stand up to them! But this? This? Does it piss you off that I'm not just one of your lots some women, then? That you actually think more of me than just a sexual diversion?"

"Moira! You know I do!" he argued, rising to his feet. Her anger fueling his own.

"Do I? Well, can't you man up and be in a mature relationship with a woman? What are you afraid of? Oh, let me guess...the c word, is that it? Commitment? But you haven't cheated on me yet, have you? Or are you that much of a bastard?"

"What, like you did?" he snapped. Glaring at her. "Although technically it wasn't cheating because it was me, a version of me. But still...look, I've never cheated on you, Moira, I don't do that! It's nothing like that! You don't understand!"

"Damn right I don't! I don't care what went wrong in your past, John! That isn't me! We all have shit like that! I'm not going to hurt you, John! Are you afraid to trust me that far? To have feelings other than sexual ones for a woman?" she taunted.

"No! Damn it! It's better this way, Moira! You have to believe me!"

"No, I don't!" She moved away, turned away from him. Forcing the tears back. Keeping the anger instead of the despair, the sorrow that hovered close to the surface. "Fuck you, John! You can't be man enough to deal with your own feelings! You're just a little boy who only wants to love and leave them!"

"Yeah, that's right, baby!" he agreed, hands on hips as he glared at her back. The fall of her ponytail. Her rear encased in the khaki pants. "I didn't want this shit! I didn't need this shit, okay? All I wanted was that pert little ass, repeatedly! I didn't want you to love me, Moira! I certainly didn't want to love you!"

"I expected nothing less from you, John! Fuck you!" She whirled, glaring at him. "You think you won't be able to get it up now that I'm more to you than just a piece of ass you want!"

"Moira!" He strode to her. "The problem is you are more to me than that! You don't understand!" he flared, grabbing her arms.

She shoved free. "Let go! What do you know about love, anyway? You run away from it like it's a disease! A contagion! Don't you realize that love is what makes our sex so good? So amazing? I bet you can't even get it up now, can you? Now that the great aloof ladies' man might actually have a heart after all!" She hit him. Her fist pounding on his chest. Both fists pounding his chest suddenly until he grabbed her wrists, yanked her into a kiss. Deep. Rough.

"You really want to know if I can get it up, baby?" he taunted. Angry. Aroused.

She yanked her wrists free. Shoved him back from her. "Fuck you, John! You really weren't that good anyway. I wish it had been John Anderson instead of you!"

He spun her round, pushed her against the wall. A shove, but gentle. He grabbed her wrists, pinned them to the wall. Shoved his body against hers. "Like hell you do," he growled into her ear. Breath hot against her skin. "Then fuck me, Moira. No. Let me fuck you. The way I make you come is unlike anything you've ever experienced so don't lie to me!"

She shifted, shoving half-heartedly into him. Angry. Aroused. Uncertain. "So? That doesn't mean a damn thing!"

"It means everything," he argued. He kissed down her throat. Pressing tightly against her rear, insistently. Leaving no doubt he was more than ready to take her. "You know what to say if you want me to stop, baby. Just say the word." He freed her wrists to slide his hands down her back to her rear. To slide between her legs, testing. Probing.

Moira trapped the murmur between her lips, stubbornly silent. Shifting as he stroked. Long fingers questing, seeking her readiness, seducing her need to be the equal of his own. His kisses trailed along her throat again.

"You can't hold it in, baby, so don't even try," he taunted.

"Screw you, sweetie," she breathed heavily, shoving into him. Back arching a little. A small moan escaping her lips. A whimper.

"I think I will, Moira..." he said gruffly. He freed her to touch her waist. Fingers sliding around. Down to undo her pants. To unzip. To thrust his hand into the material. To yank the pants down. Moira gasped, tense. Turned on. Into a breathless, wild desire. He unzipped his pants. Slipped them down. Undid his boxers. He touched her panties at her rear. Fingered the smooth, lacy fabric. Abruptly yanked them down, ripping the fabric on one side. Moira gasped again. Legs parting as she stepped out of the fallen clothing tangled around her shoes.

John pressed close, kissing her throat. He slid his hands up under her shirt, under her bra to caress. To squeeze gently as her nipples hardened. Her silence pissed him off, as she knew it would. He slid his hands down to her hips, yanking her out from the wall. Pushing her into an awkward leaning position. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall again.

Moira gasped, shifted as he thrust into her. Without a word. Without a warning. Without any kind of prelude. Pissing her off as he knew it would. She was helpless, held in place. Could only move her hips as he began a rough but careful motion. She pressed her lips together, deliberately keeping silent but whimpers escaped her ragged breathing.

Not hearing the safe word, or any words John thrust deeper. In and out. Ramming her each time a little harder, but not to hurt her. He groaned as she clenched, tightened over him. As the pleasure grew, grew. The sheer eroticism of taking her like this, roughly, intensely. Her tightness a barrier to cross. Her wetness a lubricant to guide him deeper. Deeper still. He moaned, moving faster, increasing the momentum. He freed her wrists to run his hands up her shirt. Under it. Shoving the bra aside to grab her breasts.

Moira grabbed onto the wall as each thrust pushed her, pushed her. He was sliding all over places not usually rubbed and the erotic pleasure was overwhelming. A moan escaped. A whimper. A wordless gasping as he increased the pace. He freed her breasts to grab her hips. To guide her into a deeper lean, pulling her onto him with a groaning exhalation as orgasm hit. Hit hard.

"Moira, oh Moira! Oh fuck fuck fuck!" he snarled, coming hard, fast.

Moira clung to the wall, legs splayed. A cry escaped. Another. The orgasms hit in quick succession with each thrust. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, unable to keep silent. Helpless as he brought her relentlessly, thoroughly. Suddenly she was shoved up straighter. Hit the wall as he thrust once more. Groaning loudly, a shudder coursing along his body. She tensed as the last climax slammed into her. "John! Oh John!" she sobbed in a trembling release.

John was breathing deeply, strength flagging. He pulled out of her. Leaned against her, resting. "Moira." His hot voice tickled her skin, her hair. "Oh God...Moira..I told you it was a turn-on."

Moira tried to catch her breath. To move but John was pressed up against her still. She shifted. Felt trickles sliding down her bare thighs. "John...you...you..." She couldn't find words. Astounded at the sex, the unbridled passion between them despite or because of the argument. The break-up. She shifted against him. "John?"

He stepped back, spun her into his arms. Kiss after kiss, deep and probing. He guided her back to the seats where he collapsed. Pulled her to straddle him. His hand ran up her back under the shirt. Then down to her rear to caress. To squeeze. "Ow!" He drew back, lips sore. "We should break up more often, baby."

"Shut up, John!" she snarled. Hit his shoulder. "I hate you." But she kissed him. Ran her mouth up his throat. To circle his ear until he groaned. She leaned upon his chest, resting. Closed her eyes a moment, pretending the moment would last forever.

He scooted back to recline, giving her more room. Also more access as she pressed directly onto him. He was trapped under her, feeling every intimacy they had just shared. His fingers slid up to play with her messy ponytail. "Moira, still think I can't get it up?" he teased. But his expression was serious, nearly grave as he stared past her at the wall.

"Fuck you, John," she said, caressing his chest. Opening her eyes. "Fuck you for taking this from us. For ruining everything," she muttered. Forcing the tears away so he wouldn't see. She started to rock on him. Feeling his erection growing under her.

"Moira, please do," he invited. Drew her lips to his to catch in a gentle kiss. He yanked up her shirt and bra. Ran his mouth along her breasts. Tongue teasing. Lingering on the taste of her skin.

Moira's back arched as she moaned. Startled he was becoming hard under her. So quickly. She shoved him, let her shirt fall back down over her. Began to gyrate on him. Building a spiraling desire. A hunger that came from both love and desperation. Her hands slid under his shirt, needing to feel bare skin, chest hair. She ran her nails sharply down to his waist. He moaned in surprise, in desire. Their gazes locked as if in some strange erotic contest.

She grabbed his shoulders to rise. To free him, then envelope him as she took him inside her. "John...do you need to say the safe word? I'll stop if you say it," she offered. Her voice a breathless tease. She moved up and down as the more familiar sensations rocked. Rocked.

John smiled. Caught her hips, her rear to squeeze. To guide. To support. "Ah, Moira...faster. Harder, baby. Fuck me like you keep saying," he replied gruffly, enjoying the feel of her taking him repeatedly. The hot, moist friction only arousing him more. And more.

Moira rode him. She looked over his shoulder, stared at the viewport. Pale white bodies were surrounding it. Only held back by the shield. Pale, pale breasts, pale crotches. Faces covered by hair or seaweed but a few Wraith features were discernible. Moira tensed but glared at them. A fierce possessiveness made her move faster. Lean back to take all of him into her, to encourage his thrusts. She tightened her muscles around him, relentless.

John groaned loudly, pain and pleasure colliding as she was both rushing him to release but crushing his balls at the same time. He shifted, thrusting up into her, nearly shoving her off him but keeping her in place. Her muscles tightened, eased. Tightened. Eased. Excruciating pleasure made him jerk, shudder, tense all at once. "Fuck!" he snarled.

Moira's movements became a frenzy, and she whimpered, moaned loudly. Hands grasping his shoulders tightly. His hands squeezed her rear. He saw her gaze directed elsewhere, wondered at her sudden intensity. He looked over his shoulder at the viewport. Stared. "Wha–"

"No!" She turned his head to hers, kissed him. Hard. Catching his entire attention as he came inside her. He groaned into her mouth, shuddering. Moira broke the kiss to cry out. "John!" she exulted, degenerating into inarticulate ecstasy as the orgasms slammed wildy. She nearly fell backwards but he caught her, drew her to him. Kissing her with almost savage intensity. Shoving his tongue into her mouth as he thrust once more into her.

John took over as she tensed, trembled helplessly, lost in pure physical pleasure. He slowed their motions. Gentled his kisses. Lifted her to free himself with a moan. Then set her upon his lap again. Drew her against him, caressing her back as she clung, exhausted. "Moira...my Moira...my God..." he rasped. Closed his eyes a moment as pleasant weariness assailed him. Sated. So sated he could have fallen asleep right then, with her sprawled on his lap. Sweat trickled under his clothes. His lap sodden with their joining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispered.

Moira breathed heavily, breasts heaving against his chest. Too tired to close her legs, to move. One of his hands still firmly on her naked rear, the other on her thigh. She wondered at her reaction to those watching, dangerous creatures. Stimulating her to go wild, rough, to make him solely hers. Even though he had seemingly ended their relationship. Making him entirely hers to pleasure, to own. She nuzzled his throat. Soft kisses along his skin as she relaxed her hold on his shoulders. "John...John..." she whispered.

"We need to break up more often," he said between heavy breaths, "if it leads to this exquisite, angry sex. Maybe it's better if we are broken up, Moira. What do you think?"

Moira sighed. Kissed him. Sat to look over his shoulder. "I still think you're an idiot, John." The viewport was empty. She relaxed, but frowned. Met his gaze. "I still hate you. We...are we...are we still–"

"Broken up?" he finished for her. Kissed her. "Yes. It's for the best, Moira...and let's face it, this goodbye sex will be impossible to top. Impossible."


	2. Chapter 2

Territoriality2

Before Moira could form a reply a voice interrupted from the console. "Colonel Sheppard, copy?"

Moira had begun to rock again, as if in defiance of his words. Of the break-up. She stopped. Scowled. Abruptly moved off him. She bent her knees, leaned to grab her panties and pants. John watched her twist them round, untangling them from her shoes, her ankles. Pull them up onto her. She ran a hand over her rear to feel the rip in the fabric, a gaping hole. She ran her hand down the front, felt the sodden material. Echoes of pleasure as her fingers touched her body. She glared at John who was staring avidly. Lips parted. Green eyes intent. "Answer the comm, damn you!" she snapped, stepping into her pants. Zipping them almost savagely.

John sighed. Stumbled to his feet. He shoved himself into his shorts. Pulled up his pants and zipped them with another sigh. A mixture of regret, of annoyance. Eyed the clear viewport as he strode to the front of the ship. Pounded the comm with his hand. "This is Sheppard! Copy. Sediment is..." he paused, swallowing. Voice rasping with thirst. Emotion.

"Copy? Colonel, report?"

Moira sighed. The huskiness of his voice sending delicious shivers along her skin. Vibrating intimately as pleasurable echoes reasserted. She grabbed a water bottle from her pack, downed half of the contents. "John."

He turned. She lobbed it to him. He caught it one-handed, unscrewed it and downed the rest greedily. Some water spilled down the corner of his mouth. He licked his lips, tossed the empty bottle aside. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Moira was staring at him, passion in her brown eyes. Her lips slightly parted. Hair a mess. She reached under her shirt to fix her bra. Pulled her shirt to smooth it over her.

"Colonel, what's your twenty?" interrupted the voice again.

"Shit." John had forgotten about the comm, staring at Moira. He turned back to the console, grinned. Relishing what his twenty had been only minutes ago. "Atlantis, we're waiting for the sediment to clear," he reported, voice sounded normal now. No longer sensual, replete with sexual satisfaction. "Once visibility is at a maximum we'll go in. Copy?"

"Yes, sir. Any sign of the..um, inhabitants?"

"Not yet, major," John answered, recognizing Evan's voice. He glanced at Moira who took her seat. "Sheppard out."

John took his seat. Powered the ship to rise. The murky waters were clearing. "Looks good. Here we go." He guided the vessel slowly towards the opening. A dark, yawning maw that swarmed with fish and algae. "Were they watching?" he asked, glancing at her again. He could not keep the smirk off his face.

Moira was staring out the viewport. Watching the multi-colored fish swim and swarm. Flashes of color illuminated by the ship's powerful lights. She frowned. "Yes."

"Hmm...more perverts, then," he commented. "Interesting." He paused. Could not help himself. "It turned you on, didn't it, Moira?"

"No," she replied, ignoring his teasing tone.

"It did, baby," he persisted. "Admit it. You were riding me so hard I'd thought I'd break off inside of you. Remind me to get an aquarium for your room."

"Shut up, John!" she snapped as he laughed. She glanced at him, glared. "Didn't you forget, colonel? You dumped me."

"Oh. Yeah." He scowled. "We may have to break up again once we get back to Atlantis. Think of the sex we could–"

"Enough, John!" She glared at the viewport.

John frowned. Saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. Cursed inwardly. "It's for the best, Moira. You have to trust me on this." At her silence he resumed his attention on the ship. Veered suddenly as his focus wandered. He maneuvered the Jumper. Diving down, under the rocks. The ship was plunged into darkness. Only the lights of the ship shed amber beams along the water. There was a bump on the hull above them.

"John?" Moira asked, glancing up as if expecting to see something.

"The shields will hold, don't you worry." He hid his uncertainty by flipping switches. "There. See it?" He directed the ship into a slight turn.

"See what?" Moira asked, looking at the darkness surrounding them.

"That light. Green. Here we go, baby, nice and easy. Up the opening." He smirked. "I mean the ship, Moira, not you."

"Hilarious, John," she muttered.

A green glow guided him. The Jumper slowly rose into it. Greener waters enveloped them. Fish swarmed. A long, undulating sea serpent glowered, swam away. The ship rose. It emerged with a splashing echo into the cavern.

"See anything? Anyone?" John asked, initializing scans. The lights swept the rocks, the cave.

"No. Nothing on the shore. Or in the cave. No consoles, no creatures."

"No readings. No energy signs. Ah."

Moira glanced at him. Followed his gaze. Inches away in the water a form was swimming. Pale. Humanoid. Naked. "Shit." She stood. Moved behind John. Covered his eyes with her hands.

"Hey! I need to see!" he protested, about to pull her hands off him.

"Not that! Trust me. The ship won't protect you from that. As long as you can't see them they can't place you in thrall."

"They won't affect me, Moira. Even if their psychic influence could penetrate the ship they are hideous. Not a beautiful woman like you."

"Nice try, John," she scoffed. Not moving. "Get us out of here."

"And how am I supposed to do that, exactly? I need to see."

"Do you? I thought you were a damn good pilot, colonel," she taunted.

"I am," he assured. "But does it look like we're in the air?"

"Aren't you navy or whatever?"

"Hilarious, Moira. Scoot!" He pulled her hands off him. Stared as the figure was arching from the depths. Dripping wet. Another behind it, now. "Ow!" he protested as Moira pulled his hair.

"Get us out!" she ordered.

He looked down at the controls. Even as a weird silky feeling invaded his mind. Made him want to look. Just a little. Just a glance. He imagined a giggle in his ear. Inviting. Tempting. Moira's grip on his shoulders focused him. He thought of their fierce lovemaking. Taking her roughly. From behind. Deeply. He swallowed. Reversed the Jumper. Descended into the water again. Submerging as the waters rippled over them, around them.

"Hurry, John! No!" Moira pushed his head down. "You don't want to see this!" She watched as the creatures swarmed around the ship. Gathering. Displaying themselves in lewd, lurid motions. Hissing at her. Pointed teeth in faces that were Wraith and human and amphibian.

John kept the ship moving. Reversing. Submerging. He tried to resist, but curiosity got the better of him. He lifted his head. Saw their pale, female forms floating gracefully in the water. He forced himself to check the console. "Okay...the same way we came in." They bumped something. "Shit. You better sit down, Moira."

"Not yet." She gripped his shoulders. Saw the creatures following them. Swimming with powerful strokes. Webbed hands and feet undulating. Slits on their sides evoking comparisons to gills. Raised bumps on their backs reminiscent of a primitive dorsal fin. She saw John staring. Hands frozen over the controls. "No!" She covered his eyes. "John!"

"Damn it, Moira! I have to see–"

"Back us out of here, John! Come on, it's not like you've never gone up the back entrance before, is it?" she deliberately teased.

He smiled. "God that was hot...tight...so fucking sweet..."

"John..." she warned as the figures pursued. "You don't need to see. Guide us out of here. The ship can connect with your mind, right? Your thoughts?"

"Yeah. Reversing thrust." Suddenly they sped backwards. Moira clung to his seat, nearly fell. They bumped the wall, the rocks. Debris flew. The shield shimmered in an orange mist. "Down, baby, down. I mean you this time, Moira."

"Shut up."

He laughed as she uncovered his eyes, slid into her seat. The ship reversed faster, dipping and diving. Nearly tipping into a vertical position before straightening and rising. "Okay. Goodbye Wraith mermaids." As the creatures swarmed at the cave's entrance he fired. Rocks fell as the drones imploded silently into the formations. Water spewed. He kept firing as the ship rose, rose out of the water. He shot the cliff until it tumbled into the waters. "This is Sheppard. Cave one is secure. Repeat. Cave one is secure. Heading to cave two. Copy?"

"Copy that, sir. Good hunting," Evan replied.

"Any women, er, creatures in there?" Rodney's voice crackled over the comm.

Moira frowned. "Yes, but they are all destroyed. And no, Rodney, you didn't miss much! I didn't let John see a thing!"

"I meant the tech!" he argued, glancing uneasily at Evan who was trying not to smirk.

"No, Rodney, no tech," John replied. "On to cave two. Sheppard out."

**********************************************************************

It was a silent trip through the blue-green waters. Each locked in their own thoughts. Lost in their own emotions. Trying to ignore each other, yet very aware of every motion, every little mannerism as they sat near each other. Both staring out the viewport.

John activated the HUD. Perused the readings. As they dove deeper they disturbed the sediment. It swirled around them, a dirty curtain that obscured the distances. Seaweed rippled as if it was caught in a breeze. Fish swam, oblivious. Coral formations bloomed in shades of orange and green as the ship's lights flashed across them. The blue waters grew darker as they descended. "This looks worse," he commented. "Smaller, I mean. It will be a tighter fit." He glanced at her. Debating.

"Don't," she said. One taut word. Trapped between amusement and misery.

He sighed. "I'm thinking we don't go in at all. Just blast it out here. Might be safer. To blast it here," he repeated. Filling the silence, the heavy silence. "Blow it out here. Long, hard blasts to penetrate the–"

"Don't," she repeated. Glanced at him. Expression tense, sad. "Please."

He nodded. "Sorry. I just..." He debated. "Look, Moira, the...what I mean is...you...look, Moira, it's better this way. Look, baby, we had sex. Serious sex!" He moved to a safer topic. "Not just serious sex but rough, ready, angry, exquisite orgasm-inducing sex! Twice!"

"So what do you want, sweetie, a medal?" she snapped. Irritated by both his avoidance of the real issue and his continuing sensual taunting. "What do you want to hear, John? How you literally rocked my world? Twice? My God, John, the way you, the way you took me! So, so roughly, but it didn't hurt," she assured, seeing the unasked question in his eyes. "Not at all. You were right, it was a turn-on, a huge turn-on, okay? You made me come in ways I never have! Not even with you! And then you...I rode you, I rode you so hard because I wanted you, I wanted you all to myself, John, I wanted you..." She broke off, blushed. Eyed her hands.

He smiled, scowled. Emotions tangled. "I know, baby...maybe Jumper sex is the best. Moira, if, if all we had was...I mean...if we just had this...you know? If we..." he struggled.

"Sediment's clearing, John," she noted.

"Screw the sediment! I'm trying to tell you, Moira, that if we just had...just the–"

She met his gaze. "What? Don't you dare tell me that this is all you want, John! Because if that was the case you wouldn't have dumped me! Or is this what you want now? Just the sex. Nothing else. No relationship. No emotions. No love. You want me to be one of your fucking lots some women, do you?"

His green gaze narrowed. "Yeah, baby...what if it is? What if this is all we–"

"No. You said you loved me, John! You said, you said you were in love with me...and I...you can't take that from me. Even if you don't want my love you have it. But you can't have just, just this. Just sex. Not from me. I'm in love with you, John, and right now I can't change that. And since you can't handle that, or handle the fact that you think you love me and we have to break up then we have to break up because we're not just having sex and being nothing to each other, okay?"

"What?" he asked, trying to follow her words as they sped up, fraught with emotion. "Look, Moira, I'm trying to protect you, protect me. If you'd only listen to me then–"

"Sediment's clear, colonel," she informed, eyes on the viewport. Forcing back tears.

"Fine!" he snapped. He guided the ship closer. Examined the cave's opening. "Just as I thought. It's too dangerous. Too narrow, and we'll hit those rocks for sure. The opening's not right...we won't fit."

"That's the risk you take, I guess, when you dump the right one that fits," she muttered.

He glanced at her, hearing her obvious meaning. "Doesn't mean we have to give it up, though. You know, you damn well know you'll never find another who fits you so exactly, so expertly, so snugly you feel the absence when I'm not there to fill you completely."

"Maybe so...but it wasn't that great," she denied, shifting in her chair. Her body betraying the reaction to his words.

"Yeah, right. Just as I feel the lack of it. The lack of that snug, tight, fucking wet fit to me...and that pert little ass bouncing on my–"

"John!" she flared. "Shut up!"

"No. But you're right, Moira. It wouldn't work. Just the sex, I mean. Because of our feelings. See? I develop feelings and it gets fucked up! Happens every single time," he complained. He reversed the ship. Firing on the cave's entrance.

"Only because you fucked it up, John! Just let it go! Don't get hung up over your feelings! The only thing that has changed between us is your sudden realization that you love me! Which you can't handle! The great Colonel Sheppard can't handle his own feelings for a woman!"

"Shut up, Moira!" he snarled. Her comments cutting a little too close.

"No," she refuted, an echo to his refusal. "Grow up, John!"

"Shut up, would you?" he snapped. Accelerating. The ship was rising. Rising out of the depths as the cave's roof collapsed. He stabbed the controls, angry. "Atlantis! Sheppard! Cave two is sealed! On to cave three."

"John? Is everything all right?" Elizabeth's voice sounded concerned. Calm.

"Fine," he forced a milder tone. "Out." He stabbed the button. "Shit."

"What's the matter, John? Losing control again? Oh, let me guess," she taunted with a smile as he glared at her, "can't handle your emotions again? Can't the colonel handle his feelings as well as he handles the sex? Is he only good for one thing?"

"Are you?" he retorted. "Only good for one thing, Moira? No, you're good for two things. For putting me to sleep with all of that fucking science and rambling. And for fucking. You are really good at that...at least you are now. Thanks to me. The next guy you date should send me a thank you note when he gets between your legs."

She glowered at him. "No wonder you've had so many women, John. That's all you could handle, isn't it? All those lots some women who were just sex to you anyway. And you expect me to believe that you loved me? That you could love anyone?"

"Don't you dare doubt that, Moira," he said, voice low. Solemn. "Don't you dare."

She stared, taken aback for a moment by his tone. His seriousness. But she stared out the viewport. "Yeah, right. I was so stupid. So fucking stupid. To believe you'd want me. To believe you'd even love me when you can have any beautiful woman you want. But I can see now you didn't even love them, did you?" She blinked back tears, turned away from him.

"Yeah. Believe that, Moira," he agreed. Tense. "Whatever you need to believe, Moira. I'm tired of trying to explain it to you. Were you that gullible? Did your few, few men tell you they loved you? They just wanted to get into your pants, baby, same as me. Only they didn't do a very good job of it, did they? Did they dump you or did you dump them? Well?"

Moira was struggling. His words cutting too close. Keeping silent. Not believing that John was like them, but wondering now if she had been gullible. Too blinded by emotions.

John sighed. He reached out to touch her shoulder. But drew his hand away before he could. He guided the ship, staring out the viewport. "I...I didn't mean that, Moira. I'm sorry." He could tell he blundered into something hurtful. Something beyond their break-up. "Moira?"

"Just...just fly the ship, John," she finally muttered. Staring out at the ocean.

John nodded, although she wasn't looking at him to see it. He guided the ship as he viewed the map on the HUD.


	3. Chapter 3

Territoriality3

The ship dove through the waters. Humming softly as if to fill the terse void between its two passengers. An enormous fish swam into view, and John veered to avoid hitting it. He glanced at Moira, a humorous comment on the tip of his tongue but his words remained unspoken. Moira was staring at the fish, offering no insight, no identification. John berated himself but eyed the controls. Guiding the ship unerringly towards the final cavern.

The waters were darker here. Deeper. Moira could imagine the coldness in those pressures. Could feel the tense frostiness between John and herself, except the passion tempered it into something else. Not hostility but something she couldn't identify. Or wouldn't. "_Hippoglossus stenolepis._"

"Come again?" he asked quietly, relaxing a little.

"Pacific halibut...or a version of. I'm no ichthyologist but that's what it looks like. A big fish."

She briefly smiled.

He smiled. "Like the last time. Yeah. It's nearly eight feet long!" He watched it as the gray beast swam parallel to the ship. Its huge golden eye observing them. "You don't think it wants to eat us, do you?"

"No, John. It's just curious. That's all."

"Oh. Good to know." Nevertheless he veered slightly away from the creature. Directing them lower, towards the bottom of the ocean. "Ah."

"Ah what? Oh." Moira had been watching him, as if memorize every expression. Every flicker of his green eyes as he scanned the controls, the map, the ocean, the fish beside them. The cave entrance yawning blackly in front of them. The quick glimpse of his tongue as he licked his lips. The calculating expression as he gauged distance, depth, size.

He glanced at her, as if feeling her intense scrutiny. She looked out the viewport again. "Here we go. Plenty of room." He guided the ship into the opening. Dove down, then along a tunnel. Seaweed whispered against the shield. Anemones clustered brightly to one wall. A greenish glow announced their destination. The ship slowly rose. The waters lightened. "Oh oh." Pale forms were visible. "Oops." He veered left and they broke the surface. "Shit. Energy reading. Very low...too low for a functional ZPM."

"Then it's not worth saving."

"What is that?" He leaned forward, staring.

Moira gasped. "Oh my..." She sprang to her feet even as John swore. The body of their fallen comrade was sprawled on the rocks. Clothes shredded. Flesh shredded. Withered skin and congealed blood appearing unreal, as if it was some horrid kind of costume and not the remains of a flesh and blood human. Pale forms were splashing around the water, blocking the view. More on the land moving with languid, awkward steps. White webs clung to the rocky wall. Crawling with moss and lichen. "Don't look!" Moira cried. She sprang to her feet, moved behind John and covered his eyes. "Cocoons! Oh my God, those are cocoons! But what could possibly be inside them?"

"Let's not stick around to find out," John replied. "Move."

"No. This is their den. Their, their breeding ground! Where they take the men to, to harvest them...to..." She felt a shiver at the word. Recalling how she had been nearly harvested herself for her ATA gene. She stared at the wriggling forms amid the rocks. They looked like grubs. Large pupae encased in silken webs. Glistening.

"What?" He pulled her hands from his eyes to stare. One of the cocoons was wriggling. Something in it was trying to get out. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"No." She covered his eyes again. "If they sense you we'll be in deep shit. Deep. Sit back. So far they are more interested in the ship and those cocoons." The creatures were pre-occupied with the actual vessel at the moment. Many more were clambering onto the land to caress the cocoons. To slither in the slime of the mud. Around the dead body. "John...I...I don't think they killed Thompson right away..." she said slowly.

"What? Then what did they do with..." John's words faded as he pulled her hands from his eyes to see. Cavorting naked pale forms. An arm was emerging from the sticky confines of the cocoon. Long fingers. Webbed. But strangely human. Not the pale white of the creatures. "Fuck. Is that a victim or–"

"Shit. They see you." Moira grimaced as the creatures were peering in at them now. More were splashing around the vessel. Swaying. Caressing their pale, wet bodies. She could have sworn she head a sound. A silky whisper of giggles. "Shit! John!" He seemed frozen in place, staring.

She blocked his view, thrusting herself onto his lap. Shoving her rear onto his crotch.

"Ugh! Ow! Hey!" he complained, shifting but she blocked his view. "Moira!"

It was a tight fit but she shoved into him, trapped between him and the controls. "Get us out of here now, John! Now! Unless you want to be the next sperm donor and dinner!"

"What? Shit!" He slid his arms around her to guide the ship. Tried to look past her but she shifted, blocking his view. Her body pressing on his. Pressing. "Moira, I need to–"

"No you don't. Just get us out of here now." She stroked his thigh, distracting him. Gyrated a little until he sighed expectantly. Reversed the ship slowly. Trying to submerge.

"What are they doing?" he asked.

"You don't want to know. Trust me. But they've noticed you. Go, go, go!" Moira wished she didn't have to see their lewd displays. Their flashing teeth. Their crude attempts to capture his attention. To catch him in their net of display and provocation.

"I'm going, going, going!" he agreed. Feeling a weird slither in his head. "Tell me anyway."

The ship reversed, submerging. The emerald waters lapped over them. The creatures followed. "Faster, John! Move us now!"

"Wha...which...oh, the ship? Quit squirming, Moira! No, belay that. Don't stop." John shifted under her, trying to fly the ship to safety, to ignore the luring whispers in his head, to ignore the very real sensations of her bouncing on his lap. "Here we go...here we go..." The ship picked up speed, reversing through the deeper waters with ease.

Moira relaxed a little. The creatures were still following but not as closely. As if scared off by the ship's noise, the ship's lights. She moved to stand but John hauled her back down onto him.

"John?"

"Not just yet, baby." He thrust up against her suddenly, nearly knocking her onto the controls. "I can hear them in my head, Moira, so you keep that pert little ass on me!"

Moira scrambled not to hit the console. Fell back onto him. Felt his hardness poking into her. "Okay, John...damn...you...."

"Yeah, I know. Reverse angle, baby...so sweet. Hold on. There's not room to turn around just yet. Are they following?"

"Some...but not as close."

The ship slammed into something hard. Flinging them forward. Moira hit the controls. John hit her but sat back, pulled her back against his chest. "Moira? Are you okay?"

"Yes...damn...what was that?" she asked, touching her stomach, the wind knocked out of her.

"Hell if I...oh oh. Move." He gently moved her off him. Powered up the ship. Checked the controls. "Shit. We're stuck!"

"Stuck? How?"

"Hell if I know." He stood, moved to the back. Flipped down a panel. Checked the scan. "Drive pod. Why is it always the drive pod?" he complained. Scowled. "That boulder wasn't there before, I swear! Otherwise we couldn't have gotten in."

"They've trapped us, John! They're coming for you," she warned, staring out the viewport.

"Great. I'm not on the market just yet," he grumbled. "Hang on." He fiddled with the controls. Moved back to the console. "Fuck, it won't retract enough. Hold on." The engines whined. Protested. He leaned over the console. Moved under it. "The shield's still holding so they can't get in here." He stood, looked at her as she watched him worriedly. He ignored the white forms swarming in view. "But I'm afraid I have to go out there."

"Go? Out there?"

He nodded. Risked a quick glance at the viewport. Licked his lips and looked back at Moira. "The shield. Extended to the drive pod. I'll have to manually shift it with a clamp...it's tricky but doable. They still won't be able to get me."

"Maybe...maybe not physically but mentally....John...you can't!" She touched his arm.

"There's no choice, Moira. Unless you want to spend the rest of our lives down here. Which, considering we have no food or water and a limited air supply would be comparatively short. And let's face it," he added, moving past her to the controls in back, "there is just not room enough for really comfortable sex, is there?"

She sighed. "John, be serious! You can't go out there to–"

"I am. Serious. Always, about sex, baby," he retorted. Moved to her and kissed her suddenly. Stepped to set the controls. "You. Stay here. I'm only extended the shield as far as the drive pod." He grabbed a heavy clamp from the rack of tools. Glanced at her. Opened the hatch. Moira held her breath as the hatch opened. Released it as the shield prevented the water from crashing into them, prevented the pressure from crushing them. A few fish floundered on the shield floor, dying. She moved to the hatch, watching.

John stepped out. The ground felt spongy, like it had when he had extended the shield underwater previously. The memory of making love with Moira after their picnic surfaced but he shoved it aside. He quickly stepped to the drive pod. Water dripping from it, from the rocky wall. He studied it a moment. "Moira. Crowbar. Second shelf," he instructed. Setting the clamp onto the pinned equipment.

Moira hastened to grab the item. She moved to the ramp but he was there. She handed it to him. "Be careful, John."

"You stay right there," he ordered, pointing at her. Flashed a grin. "Hey, you're watching my fine, fine ass, aren't you?"

"Always, sweetie," she rejoined with an answering smile.

"Well, then." He stepped back to the drive pod. Set the crew bar between the rock and the clamp. Pulled. Pushed. He adjusted the clamp, the crowbar. His stance, putting his weight into it. Pulling and prying. Grunting with the effort. Movement out of the corner of his eye. A flash of a pale, pale breast. He ignored it. Concentrating. Grunting again as he pried at the rock. The crowbar slipped and fell. "Shit! Son a of bitch!" He wiped sweaty hands on his pants. Picked up the crowbar. Came face to face with a naked pale body. A Wraith face peering through seaweed or hair.

"John! John, focus!" Moira shouted, ready to rush to him.

"Thanks, Moira." He turned away, winced at the weird sussurations in his head. Set the crowbar. Pried at the rock. The clamp jerked. Whined. "Damn it! Come on!" He pried again, muscles straining, sweaty hands slipping. Sweaty t-shirt sliding up his back. He swore loudly as the rock budged. The crowbar sliced his palm. He fell onto his rear, onto his back as the clamp jerked wildly.

"John? John!"

John stared, open-mouthed. White bodies lined the shield. Naked, female forms pressing obscenely against the tunnel. Creating ripples of friction against the energy field. Rubbing. Writhing. Calling in his head over and over.

"John! Oh for crying out loud! Men!" Moira fumed, running down the ramp to him.

"No! Don't leave the Jumper!" John bellowed. His voice halting her. Her voice breaking the spell. He scrambled to his feet. "Go check the controls! I need to know when this sucker is going to fail with them crawling on it! Go!" He glanced to see her rushing into the ship. Noticed the blood dripping from his hand. A hissing made him wince as it reverberated in his head. The creatures were becoming agitated. Aroused. Webbed fingers prying at the shield, heedless of the energy sparking round them. Gazes locked onto his hand, his crotch.

"John! Power levels are erratic! Hurry up!" Moira shouted from the Jumper. Hastened back to see him just standing there. Surrounded by a sea of white forms on the shield. "John!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Okay." He snatched the crowbar. Re-set the clamp. Shoved the crowbar into another opening. The shield flickered. For a second John felt the rush of water, the crush of pressure. "Oh crap." He pried at the rock.

"John! Hurry up! Move that fine, fine ass!" Moira called, grabbing the wall as the ship abruptly rocked. The shield flickered. Sporadic glimmers of gold. "John!"

"I'm trying! Be prepared to shut that fucking hatch if the shield fails!"

"No!"

"That's an order, Moira!" he bellowed, risking a glance at her. She was clinging to the ship as it rocked again. Feet sliding on the ramp.

"No! I'm not doing that, John, so get that drive pod loose now!"

"I gave you an order, Moira!" he argued, turning back to pry, to pry with slippery hands.

"You're not my team leader, damn it!"

He smiled, shook his head. "As military commander, then! No! As your lover, then!"

"No, John, you dumped me! Remember?"

"Shit. That doesn't go into effect until we breach the surface! Moira! Get that pert little ass back in the ship!" he shouted, glancing to see her heading for him. "Now!"

The shield flickered. Gold sparks which shivered. The water rippled around them. A pressure on their lungs for a second. With a wrenching lunge John threw all of his weight against the crowbar. The rock budged. The clamp snapped but the drive pod stuttered free of the impediment. The ship began to move, to lurch drunkenly.

"John!" Moira cried, aghast the shield sparked all at once.

John turned slowly, seemingly trapped in the energy fizzing all around him. He felt a breath of cold air along the nape of his neck. Even colder along his bare skin, sending shivers where sweat had been trickling. Cold, unimaginably cold water lapped at him. Pressure was squeezing him tight. But worse of all was the horribly pale arm that was coming through the failing shield. Gripping his arm with tenacious force. Long webbed fingers locking onto him.

Moira spun, ran up the ramp to the ship. She grabbed at the controls, praying the ship would respond to her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder to see the shield suddenly reinforce itself. Water roiled around it. She ran back to the ramp.

John threw himself sideways, swinging the crowbar at the advancing form of the Wraith when the shield bloomed to life. A shrieking scream filled his head as the creature's arm was severed. John fell to the wet ground, the arm still latched onto his. "Fuck! That was close! Moira!"

"John!" Moira ran to him, hauling him to his feet. "I don't know how long this will–"

"Not long enough! Go!" He shoved her ahead of him, grabbed the clamp and ran after her.

Moira ran up the ramp, but the shield flickered again. An invisible force propelled her into the ship, squeezing the air out of her lungs. She heard the crash of waves and whirled. "John!"

John launched himself up the ramp, threw the tools aside and rolled. He sprang to his feet and slammed his hand to close the hatch as the shield spurted, then fell with a resounding whamming sound. John took a deep breath, trying to inflate his lungs. He flipped the panel, pulled wires. "Go!" He shoved past her to the front of the ship as it veered again, flying itself awkwardly through the muddy waters. Creatures swarmed around it. White bodies pressing on the viewport, straining the shield's capacity to hold them at bay. "Fuck! Let us go!"

"John! The arm!"

"What? Oh." He stared down at the Wraith's hand, the fingers locked in death grip around his forearm. He had forgotten all about it. "Ow." With a grunt he began to pry it loose, finger by finger. "Thing's stuck. Moira, a little help here oh screw it. There isn't time. Move!"

John rushed to the front of the ship. He all but fell into the pilot's seat, grabbed the controls. "Moira!" he called, reversing the ship, trying to gain control of the vessel as it began to spin, spin in the turbulent waters.

Moira grabbed a bandage from the first-aid kit. Lurched towards the front of the ship. She grabbed onto the co-pilot's seat as the ship swerved. Moved free of the rocks at last. A few creatures fell back as John spun the ship around, then sped forward. He dove deep. Spun the ship around again, accessing systems, weapons.

John shielded his eyes from the waters, but could feel the creatures still all around them. Echoes whispering in his head. Giggles. "Moira!"

"Here, John!" She stood behind him, covered his eyes. "Concentrate on flying. On me. On our, our wild, rough sex. On the way you took me from behind, against the wall. Pinned me there, helpless to take me however you wanted." She watched the creatures, gulping at their now ferocious, ugly faces as they snarled, spit. "You've got a clear shot, now, colonel!" She uncovered his eyes. "John?"

"Firing at maximum," he said. Watched the drones spin into the water, through several of the Wraith on their way to the target. The bodies splitting apart in the odd silence. Limbs flying. Blood spurting darkly in the depths. Rocks crashed and the coral formations exploded as the drones hit one by one. John fired again, until he was satisfied. Then he reversed the ship. Reversing carefully, lights playing over the body parts floating, sinking to the depths. On the few creatures left swimming into the darkness to escape. On the cave's blocked entrance point. "Could you describe that again, please? In detail?"

"No." Moira finally sat in the chair. Took his hand. Wiped the blood away and bandaged it. "It's not bad, but a little deep. Damn it. You should have been more careful."

"I was busy saving our asses at the time," he noted. Gaze still on the viewport.

"Can you fly one-handed?"

He smirked. "I can do a lot of things one-handed."

"Hilarious, John." But she laughed suddenly. "Of course now you have three."

"What? Oh shit." He laughed, met her gaze. "A little help here, please." He began to pry off the fingers, one by one. "Shit, the skin is cold and clammy. Gives me the creeps."

"This is incredible, John," she observed, helping him pry it off him.

"The strength of its grip, yeah."

"That too, but look at the development of the webbing. The claws aren't really claws but more serrated. I can't wait to see the sucker."

"Whatever turns you on, baby. Ah, that's better." He rubbed his arm as the attachment fell to the floor. He watched Moira grab a blanket and wrap it carefully, sliding from her seat to squat on the floor. She turned it over to view the palm. A sucker protruded, looking like the beak of a squid. Several suckers lined the arm. "Look, John! Like an octopus. No wonder it had such a hold on you! Are you okay?" She looked at him.

He was watching her, warmth in his gaze, but he eyed the arm, made a face. "That's just gross, Moira. Put it away." He eyed his arm. The skin was lined with red sucker marks but they were fading. "I'm fine. I don't know about you but I've had enough of the water for one day. Here we go." He guided the ship with one hand as Moira slipped into her seat. Caught his cut hand and carefully adjusted the bandage.

They rose steadily through the waters. Heading towards the streaks of sunlight beckoning them. Light gleamed with welcoming warmth. Offering safety. They broke the surface. Water streamed off the ship, sizzling as the sunlight beamed upon them. John guided into the welcome sight of the blue sky. Headed towards the city.

"This is Sheppard. Cave three is secure. Copy? Heading home. Keep the doors open."

"Yes, sir!"

"Good to hear, John. Any problems?" Elizabeth asked.

John glanced at Moira. "No...easy as pie. Sheppard out. Moira, can I have my hand back?"

"What? Oh." She freed his hand. "How does it feel?"

"Stings like a son of a bitch. Damn, Moira, now people will think you cut me. Talk about rough sex. But you do like it rough underwater."

"Shut up, John." She sighed. "John...um...I guess...I mean..."

"Yeah." He looked away from her. Towards the city growing closer, bigger in the viewport. "Its for the best, Moira. I'm sorry. I...look, let's just leave it for now. I mean, I mean...I'm sorry."

Moira looked away from him. Forcing her emotions aside. "If that's how you want it, John. If you can't handle...if you can't...I'm sorry too."

He glanced at her. But guided the ship into the city without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

Territoriality4

John sat in the infirmary. Scowling. Fidgeting as Carson fussed over him. Cleaned his cut palm with antiseptic, applied anti-biotic and wrapped a clean bandage over it. Examined the fading line of sucker marks along his forearm. He wearily glanced to where Moira stood. She was unwrapping the Wraith arm, rubber gloves protecting her hands. She placed it carefully into a tank full of liquid. Water sloshed around the limb as it sank to the bottom. She had taken a few samples of tissue and proceeded to prepare them for examination.

"You said the drive pod?"

Rodney's question brought him back and he eyed his friend, nodded. "Yes. Somehow got lodged in the rocks. Rocks placed there by those things. The systems wouldn't respond, not even to a manual override, so I had to do it by hand."

Rodney shook his head. "That shouldn't have happened. There must have been a short somewhere. And the shield held?"

"Mostly. Until the end. I don't know if it was the continual power drain or those things pressing on it but we barely made it out of there."

"I doubt it was those creatures...unless they possess some kind of electronic charge. I'll run a full systems check to be sure." Rodney glanced around. "So...those creatures? The..women?"

"They weren't women, Rodney!" Moira corrected. Anger in her voice as she used a pair of tweezers to place tissue on a slide.

"Dead. All of them. Well, nearly all. Let's hope they can't swim all the way to Atlantis. So, doc, can I go now?" he asked, as Carson finished.

"Yes, colonel. How do you feel? Any residual affects?"

"None. Except for a headache again." His gaze darted to Moira. She was examining the tissue under the microscope. Paused to free her hair. It swirled around her. She gathered it, trapped it in a ponytail. "What?" He looked back at his friends.

"Nothing, John." Rodney was smirking, but he moved towards Moira. "Hey, are we still on for movie night? Unless you're sick of sea monsters."

"What?" Moira met his gaze, remembered. "Oh. Okay. I'll bring the DVDs. You bring Katie."

"And lots of popcorn."

"Don't you have a ship you need to fix?" John asked, gaze narrowing.

"Yes. The same one you keep wrecking." Rodney smiled at John's scowl as he left.

"All right, then, colonel, take some aspirin and rest. The debrief is in an hour. Giving you plenty of time to rest and recover. And grab a bite to eat."

"Thanks, Carson." He stood, hesitated.

Moira was shaking her head. "Remarkable. Carson, you need to see this. The tissue composition is amazing! You wouldn't think it was possible. And the arm itself."

"Yes, love. Why don't you go get a bite to eat before the debrief?" Carson suggested, moving to her. He looked from one to the other.

"No, I'm not hungry. There are vestigial genetic markers from their antecedents as an aquatic Iratus bug. I saw primitive gill formations as well...a true hybrid of aquatic and mammalian characteristics! These Wraith are unlike any we have ever encountered before."

"And they will still be here when after the debrief, love. Now go. John's waiting."

"No, he's not." She stubbornly inserted another slide. "I will be curious to see the chemical composition of the–"

"Moira! Go!" Carson shut off the microscope. Touched her arm. "Do I have to make it an order?"

"What is it with you men and your orders?" she asked, meeting his gaze. Seeing his puzzlement she sighed. "Sorry, Carson. I'll go prepare my notes for the debrief in case someone asks me a question." She turned to see John still standing there. "What?"

"Nothing, doctor. I'm going to grab a bite to eat. That's all." Abruptly he turned and left.

"Moira? Is something wrong?" Carson asked.

"No. Nothing's wrong, Carson...and, and everything is." She quickly left before he could question her.

**********************************************************************

John tossed and turned. Trying to drown his headache in pills, in sleep. But sleep evaded him. Memories of those pallid, naked female forms were invading his mind again. Inducing his body to very erotic sensations. He clenched the pillows, the blankets, shoving all thoughts of Moira out of his mind. Knowing it would only make matters worse. He cursed, swore and sat. Stared round his room. Checked his watch.

Twenty minutes until the debrief. Twenty minutes until he would see Moira again. No doubt seated far down the table from him. No doubt unwilling or unable to meet his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, berating himself for the mess he had created by falling for her. By wanting her even now. He stood, paced. Paced. Trying to drive all thoughts, all emotions down and away. Locking them in a dark place so no one would see. No one would know.

Most of all himself.

**********************************************************************

Moira sat in the biology lab, typing at her keyboard. Recording her initial findings, her observations of the aquatic Wraith. Trying to dismiss their lewd behavior and lose herself in the science. Trying not to think of John. The amazingly erotic sex in the Jumper. The rush of emotion, pleasure, release. The break-up.

She shoved the data pad aside, brooding. Berating herself for falling for John in the first place. She had known this was coming. Had known it couldn't last. Things this intense never did. He wasn't the kind to stick around for long, and she had known that but had fallen for him anyway. She dreaded the debrief. Checked the clock on the wall.

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes until she saw John again. No doubt seated near the head of the table far from her. No doubt unwilling or unable to meet her gaze. More than likely he would ignore her. And that would be the worst of all. She sighed, wishing she had a beer. Knew he would find that thought amusing. She stood. Wondered if they would even miss her if she didn't show up for the debrief. Realized that Evan would. And Carson.

Maybe even John.

*************************************************************************

"Well, I guess he's not coming," Rodney remarked, scowling. He eyed his companions seated in the conference room.

"I told you he probably wouldn't," Carson smoothly rejoined. "Between exhaustion, injuries, and that headache induced by those, um, creatures, he needs to rest. We have his initial report to go by, and we can talk about that specimen they brought back."

"Oh come on! You know damn well he's doing more than resting!" Rodney flared. Slammed his palm on the table. "For God's sake, man, we all know what's going on here! No doubt he's in Moira's bed right now!"

An embarrassed silence filled the room. Elizabeth coughed. "Be that as it may, we have the initial reports plus the Jumper's recordings. For now. If Carson believes he needs to rest then–"

"Oh come on! Since when have you been so lenient?" Rodney challenged. "We all know what's going on! And don't blame it on those creatures, well, sure some of it, but this–"

"Rodney," Carson warned. Tried to warn but the scientist would not be stopped.

"This is getting to be ridiculous!" Rodney continued, in full rant now. "Are we supposed to be wasting our valuable time while he recuperates with Moira? Are we? Am I the only one who can say it? It's a surprise, that's all."

"You're just jealous, Rodney," Carson observed.

"What? Jealous? Of course not! Don't be absurd! I'm not interested in Moira! I don't even like her. I mean in that way! I like her well enough, and she's competent enough in her field of study. I'm just surprised that Sheppard is so–"

"You're not jealous of Moira," Evan noted. Glanced at Elizabeth. "I'm sorry, Doctor Weir." He looked back at Rodney. "You're jealous because he's getting some and you're not."

"Major Lorne!" Elizabeth scolded, nearly spitting out her coffee. Carson laughed.

Rodney exploded. "What? Preposterous! I can get some if I want some! Why, why I have to fend them off! I mean, I mean I don't want some! I mean I don't want Moira! I mean I–" he spluttered, going red in the face.

Elizabeth laughed as did the others. She held up a hand. "Why don't we reschedule for–"

"No! I'll go get him myself!" Rodney stormed towards the door.

"Rodney, no!" Carson grabbed his arm, halting him. "You can't! Let him sleep!"

"Sleep?" he scoffed, turning to the doctor. "Bullshit! He should be at this meeting! Since he got to go back and see those..."

"Rodney, no! Think of Moira...you'll embarrass her terribly," Carson reasoned.

"So? She should have thought of that before letting him into her bed!"

"Then think of John! Do you remember what happened to the last man that interfered with them? Parrish?" Rodney gulped. "Yes. Do you want to end up like that?"

"No. Oh don't be ridiculous, Carson! I'm not going to hurt Moira, much less attack her! I won't even touch her!"

"Do you think John will see it that way? You barging in, upsetting her terribly, disrupting their privacy? Oh, I'm fairly certain he won't kill you, but he'll probably punch you. And it will permanently rupture your friendship."

"Excuse me. Is, is the meeting over?" Moira stood at the threshold, staring at the pair. Rodney's expression of sudden worry. Carson's hold on his arm.

"Moira? You...oh! Oh...where's John?" Rodney asked, glancing past her.

"I don't know." She entered, took a seat next to Evan. Wondered at their stares.

"You don't know? He wasn't with you?" Rodney asked, taking his own chair as Carson freed him.

"No."

"No? Oh come on! You don't have to cover for him, Moira! If he's still in your bed then–"

"Rodney! That's quite enough!" Evan flared.

Moira felt a blush but replied coldly, "I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him. And to answer your question, Rodney, no. He's not in my bed."

"I was in my bed, actually," John said, entering the room. His cold glance silencing the sarcasm on Rodney's lips. The comments from the rest. He moved past Moira to take his seat. Eyed Elizabeth. "Sorry. I had trouble sleeping. The headache. So I took a walk round the pier."

"Did it help?" asked Carson.

"No. So...are we going to do this now?" He rubbed his temples. Dropped his hands to his lap as he scowled at the men. "There's really nothing to discuss. The caves are sealed. There was no tech to report. No ZPMs."

Carson folded his hands on the table. "Actually I find these creatures fascinating. From a biological standpoint. We are studying the arm you brought back and it is a strange evolution from the normal Wraith we have encountered."

"What's more important is why the shield failed like that. It was under stress but the power should not have been affected by any biological creatures. There must have been something else in those waters affecting the energy output," Rodney opined at nearly the same time.

"I've studied the initial mapping of the underground cavern systems and it looks like those caverns are all linked, but only those three have an outlet to the sea," Evan noted. "It reminded me of those blue holes in the Bahamas chain that have a similar underwater system."

John let the voices flow over him, around him. Gaze moving to Moira who was equally ignoring the others. Lost in staring at her data pad, chewing on her lower lip. John wished they would all be quiet so he could hear that small, small sound she made when she was concentrating on some problem. She met his gaze suddenly, freeing her lip and he eyed his own data pad, feigning disinterest in her.

Moira sighed, frowned as he absently picked at the scab on his lip. But turned hearing a question directed at her. As the men's voices faded into silence. "Yes, cocoons," she answered, recalling the last word Elizabeth had said. "Surprising to find them like that. The pupae were unexpected, a very unlikely method of reproduction but given their insect and aquatic precedents I suppose it could be an adaptation to their enclosed environment and oddly asexual–"

"Moira, no! I told you..." John paused, interrupting. Faltered as her words registered in his brain. He had been miles away until her voice intruded. He looked at the men who were staring at him in surprise. At Elizabeth who was furrowing her brows.

"John? Told her what? You have a different theory about the reproductive capabilities of these Wraith subspecies?"

John nodded. Swallowed. "Oh. Actually, yes," he smoothly covered. "I'm no biologist but from what we observed they were using Thompson for more than a food source. And their bodies are, were clearly human, female, and the way they were posturing left little doubt as to what they wanted us for. The men, I mean."

"Really? Do you dispute their insect background completely?" Moira challenged. "I saw some grub-like things in the smaller cocoons, which argues for another method entirely. Their initial burgeoning should follow along those lines, or is it the possible asexual reproductive methods when males are lacking thus producing only females of the species?"

He met her gaze, scowled. "Nine," he said quietly, but continued, "I find the aquatic aspects troubling. No, intriguing. The obviously amphibian predecessors argue a divergence from the normal Iratus bug and human combination. Their webbed fingers and toes, their scales, the primitive dorsal fin, the suckers along their arm, even the sucker in their hand is all predisposed for a very different kind of environment. Plus the male we found dead in that first cave. Quite obviously was either a progenitor of the species or the last male harvested for reproductive and survival purposes." He smiled smugly.

"That's...impressive, John," Elizabeth praised.

"No, it's not," Moira argued. "True, it is interesting, and kudos to you, colonel, for being more than just a pretty face, but your logic is flawed on several points."

"Don't judge me by my looks, doctor," he chided, "impressive as they are. I find your rambling tiresome and purely based on mere speculation, not facts."

"Do you now, colonel? Then tell me, please, what is your hypothesis for the genesis of these creatures? Oh wait...do you have all of the facts? Do you have a degree in biology or history or any of the sciences?"

He frowned. "As a matter of fact, doctor, I do, but that point isn't relevant. Neither is the discussion of their genesis as most of those creatures are dead. From a strategic standpoint the city is secure. Or do you disagree with that? Oh wait...do you have any kind of military training? Any kind of experience with military tactics? No."

The rest were speechless, staring from one to the other and back again. As if they were watching a tennis match, except words were being lobbed back and forth instead of a ball. Elizabeth finally spoke into the terse silence. "Well, however these things were generated at least they are sealed forever in those caves, or dead."

"Yes," John agreed, on safer ground. "All three caves are sealed. The whole complex of caverns is submerged under rocks and debris. And the ocean. And," he added, glancing at Moira smugly, "since they wouldn't survive for long in the open ocean currents being a completely different environment from the warmer lagoons they should not be a recurring threat."

"You stole that from me," Moira chided. Glaring at him. "I made that observation first."

"And I'm requisitioning it," he retorted, continuing, "just as they certainly won't emerge onto the mainland to terrorize the–"

"It's still stealing, colonel! You took–"

"Military priority, doctor. As I was saying they won't be able to emerge onto the mainland to terrorize the–"

"Military stealing, you mean," Moira interrupted, "and just how the hell do you know if–"

"A command decision. So they won't be able to emerge onto the mainland to terrorize the–" John continued, ignoring her accusations.

"Command stealing, then, it's all the same to you army–"

"Air force and will you let me finish my sentence?" he asked, annoyed but oddly enjoying their sparring.

Moira was enjoying it too, despite herself. She tried not to smile. "Can you, colonel?"

"Yes! If you would stop interrupting me, damn it!" He considered. "Now...what was I trying to say?"

Laughter erupted, breaking the tension. John laughed, shaking his head. Moira laughed, the moment of levity erasing the awkwardness, the underlying unhappiness. Amusement sparkled in John's gaze. A warmth that belied their break-up. Moira's brown eyes were full of merriment, locked with his. Her love shining towards him.

"As I was saying," he paused, met Moira's gaze as she eyed him expectantly. "They won't be able," he paused. Silence. "To emerge." Silence. "Onto the mainland..." He waited. Waited. "To terrorize..." he drew out the word for a long moment, saw her smile, her laugh held back. Held back his own. "The..." he drew the word out, waited. "Athosian settlement or even the city itself," he finally finished in a rush. "Whew! I didn't think I was going to make it." Laughter.

Elizabeth raised a brow, looking from one to the other. "All right, then. We can safely call this mission a success. That's all for now. Keep me apprised on your projects."

"I, um, I'll get to work on that arm," Moira stammered.

"Yes," John agreed, "you should. If only so I can complete a sentence."

"Maybe even a paragraph, for once." She smirked at his playful scowl. Followed the others out of the room. John watched her go. Eyes inevitably lowering to her rear. "Stop," she called over her shoulder.

He sighed. "How did...oh well." He followed them down the stairs, paused. Moira was standing near a console, lingering as she held her data pad. "Hey. Aren't you supposed to be working?" he snapped, startling her.

Moira almost dropped the data pad. She turned to him. "Yes, colonel. I was just on my way to–"

"Really? On your way to where, exactly? As far as I can see you're doing absolutely nothing. Just standing here."

"I was waiting. I thought you might require medical assistance if you actually completed a full paragraph."

He smirked, but retorted, "Remind me again, what is it that you do around here? Besides annoying me?"

"I thought that was my job. Or at least the part your pretty head can understand. Excuse me, colonel."

"Don't let me detain you, doctor." He turned, headed in the other direction. Glanced over his shoulder to see her staring after him. "Eyes up, O'Meara!" he chided, making her briefly smile.

"Sorry, Sheppard. Turn about is fair play."

"That it is, doctor. That it is."


	5. Chapter 5

Territoriality5

"Moira!"

Evan's shout caused Moira to drop the file she had been holding. Papers fluttered as she whirled. "Evan! Wha–"

"You're needed on the mainland!" he said, grabbing her arm to propel her towards the doorway.

"One of those things came ashore and attacked some Athosians before it was killed!"

"What? One of the aquatic–"

"Yes! Sheppard sent me to get you! Let's go!"

"Wait! Let me grab a kit!" she protested, whirling out of his grasp to grab a pack from the table.

She ran alongside Evan as he sprinted to the Jumper bay. "Are you sure it's dead? What happened? Where is the–"

"I'll tell you on the way!"

**************************************************************************

John stood, hands on hips, elbows jutting as he stared down at the corpse. A fine mist veiled the land in hues of gray and green. But did not obscure the hideously pale figure dead in the crushed grasses. He looked over to see Moira and Evan headed for them. He scowled. Pointed at the body as they reached him. "Look! I thought you said these things couldn't survive in the open ocean?"

"I said they wouldn't survive long in the open ocean," she corrected, brushing past him to kneel at the body. It was riddled with bullets. A mess of gore and pale flesh. Gills could be discerned, as well as primitive lungs in the tissue.

"Carson is tending the wounded, but Amar will lose his arm," Teyla informed, her anger palpable in her voice. "You told me the mainland was safe. You assured me that there was no threat to my people, colonel!"

John swung towards the angered Athosian. "It was! I mean I thought it was. But I was clearly misinformed," he retorted.

"Sir, you can't possibly blame Moira for–" Evan began, ready to defend his friend but John ignored him.

"Gather your people. We'll evacuate and hunt down the–"

"No. We will remain and fight for our homes here."

"Teyla! You will get your people off the mainland until I've made sure there is no longer a threat!"

"No, colonel. We will remain and fight." She whirled, storming away from the men.

"Orders, sir?" a marine asked.

"Perimeter sweep. On the coastline. Moira?" he barked.

Moira's gaze swept up to him, up to the waiting marines. All heavily armed. Expressions grim.

She thought a moment, suddenly realized what he wanted. "They'll be heading inland, for water. Any tributaries to the open sea, or rivers, or lakes. Fresh water is not their natural habitat but it is far better than the dry land. They'll be slow but vicious, trying to get back to the–"

"You heard her!" John snapped, interrupting. "Water! And shoot to kill." His voice took on a lower, graver tone. "Never forget those things are Wraith. They may look like naked, nubile women but they are not. They are Wraith. They will chew off your dick and eat your balls for breakfast, so shoot to kill. Keep in radio contact at all times. Go! Ronon, with me. Major, stay with the civvies!"

Moira stood. "Colonel! We need to move this to the city for complete analysis!"

"Hell no, doctor! It stays here!"

"It's a perfect specimen of a subspecies we have never encountered! We need to study it! An example like this is unprecedented! We need to study it in the city under controlled and clinical conditions!"

"I said no, doctor! That thing is not being transported to the city!"

"Damn it, John, we need to–"

"I said no, Moira! And that's a direct order, major!" He glared at Evan who nodded. "Throw a tarp on that thing!" He stormed after Ronon.

"Wow," Evan commented. "What the hell? Moira?"

"Fucking stubborn," she muttered. "Help me move this to that tent, Evan. We need to salvage as much as we can!" She grabbed the ankles, waited. Evan was staring down at the body. "Evan! Stop staring! It's a Wraith!"

"Okay, Moira, sorry." He took hold of the shoulders.

"Sorry, Evan. Here we go."

Carefully they carried the body into the tent. Plopped it onto the ground. Liquids spilled. Bits of flesh dropped into the dirt. A rancid smell made Evan wrinkle his nose, make a face. The sound of gunfire rent the air. Moira jumped, but Evan held up a hand, halting her. "Sir?" he asked into the radio. "Colonel Sheppard, copy?" He exchanged a glance with Moira.

*************************************************************************

"Colonel Sheppard! One down! Repeat, one bogey down!"

John nodded, gestured to Ronon to stop. "We're coming to you, lieutenant. Delta, report to our twenty. Rogers bagged one. Ronon, let's go." John led the way through the weaving mists. To a clearing not far from the shoreline. The men were gathering, all staring down at the pale body of the female aquatic Wraith. He tapped his earpiece. "Major, stay alert. One bogey down but there could be more."

John stepped past the men to view the body. A parody of feminine beauty warped by the Wraith and amphibian DNA into a hideous parody. Blood sluiced in the sand. The body twitched. Then was still.

"Sir! Oh my God, sir! The ocean!" A marine pointed.

John looked over as did the rest. The waves were roiling. Frothing like excited animals. The mist was weaving over the blue-green waters creating an eerie silence. "Shit. Form a line and hold it. Ronon? Where the hell is Ronon?" John looked round. "Ronon!" he called. Stepped past the men and along the sandy shore. P90 at the ready. The cold air seemed to take his voice and toss it among the waves.

**************************************************************************

"All's secure for now, but I better keep watch," Evan offered. "Get what samples you need. If that thing so much as twitches holler."

Moira smiled. "You don't have to tell me twice." She began to work as Evan exited the tent.

He scanned the weaving mists, P90 at the ready. Tensed as a figure was heading towards him. Lowered the weapon. "Carson?"

"Major, I've got wounded to move to the city immediately! I can't work in these conditions and the injuries are very serious!"

"Okay, doc. But I've got Moira in there dissecting that thing so–"

"Moira? She's here?" Carson asked, surprised. He glanced at the tent as she emerged.

"Evan, go. I'll be fine," she assured, hands encased in rubber gloves. She held a scalpel.

"Hang on. I better check first. Colonel Sheppard, do you copy?" he asked into the radio. "Carson's got injured to transport ASAP. Orders?" He waited.

**************************************************************************

"Ronon!" John swore as the radio crackled. Just as he spotted Ronon standing in the waves. The waters lapped up to his knees. John peered past him but couldn't see anything in the mist. He tapped the earpiece. "Major! Get the injured to the city! Moira too! Go!" He turned back. "Delta, on my six, now!" He reached Ronon. "Ronon? What the...oh crap."

Figures were splashing out of the waves. White, lithe female forms. The mist obscuring their faces but not their naked bodies. Giggles tickled John's ears and he tried to block the sounds, the whispering insinuations. "Fire, on my mark! Fire!" A barrage of bullets skidded across the water. The creatures ducked, screeched, dove into the waters.

"No!" Ronon bellowed, gun still hanging uselessly from his hand. He made to go after them, wading deeper into the chilling waters.

"Crap. Ronon! Sorry, buddy." John swung his fist into Ronon's jaw. Heard a resounding crack. "Ow!" he complained, but Ronon swung round and hit back. John flew backwards into the water. Pain dousing his face, one eye.

"Sheppard? Oh shit!" Ronon seemed to awaken from a daze. He reached down and hauled his friend from the waves. "What happened to me? I couldn't move!"

"They happened." John pointed as the creatures were surfacing once more. A weird sensation filled his head. Giggles. "Shit. Fall back! Fire at will! Fire!" He backed out of the water with Ronon, firing the P90 in a haze of bullets as the marines shot at the lithe forms.

They climbed up the sandy bank, still firing. Creatures falling, wailing. Diving to the safety of the waves. John raised his hand and the guns fell silent. There was only the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The mist silent, weaving coldly among the men. The harsh breathing of the marines. One coughed. Ronon rubbed his jaw, spat out some blood from a cut lip. John gingerly touched his sore eye. Could feel the swelling beginning.

The two men exchanged a glance. A shrug. A grin.

"Sir? I hear...I hear giggling," stated a nervous marine, clutching his P90 to his chest.

"Easy, Rogers. Ignore it. Shoot to kill," John ordered.

"Son of a..." Ronon muttered.

"Pale moon rising, sir," Jason Reynolds quipped.

"I see it. Damn. Fire!"

Another barrage of bullets hit the water. Hit the swarming forms. Shrieks rent the air. Blood spurted in a crimson arc against the gray mist.

************************************************************************

Moira jumped at the sound. The weapons loud, echoing in the mist. She ducked out of the tent to see Evan running towards her. "No! Evan, go!"

"I can't just leave you here, Moira! You have to come with me!" he argued.

"No! I'll be fine! John and his men are not far. I have to complete this! Evan, go! You need to help the injured! Go!"

Evan sighed, clearly unconvinced. Nevertheless he thrust his 9mm into her hand. "Shoot to kill, Moira! Contact Sheppard if you need his help!"

"I will! Now go!" she urged. She watched him turn and race back towards the Jumper. Ducked back into the tent to continue her work with a nervous glance around the darkened interior.

***************************************************************************

A final barrage and the waters were still. Lifeless bodies floated. Torn limbs hit the shoreline. Blood pooled on the blue waves.

"Orders, sir?"

"Stand down." John lowered his gun, waited with his men. His head felt clear. No longer fuzzy with giggles or other soft sounds. There was no movement in the waters. "I think that's it. Back to Atlantis. Ronon and I will make a final sweep. Reynolds, evacuate the mainland ASAP!"

John began to walk along the shore. Ronon went in the other direction. Each man observant. Straining to listen, to see. But all was calm. Quiet. Once satisfied he gestured and the two men headed back to the settlement.

Moira heard voices. The men. Teyla's orders as she helped her people gather to fill the Jumpers. The marines aiding them. She ducked out of the tent to see a swirl of motion in the mist. She gulped as John appeared, glaring round. Glared at her with both surprise and fury. Headed straight for her. Moira ducked backwards into the tent. But he followed her.

John cast a glance at the covered corpse, the samples lying near the opened kit. Eyed her. "What the hell are you still doing here? I gave the order to evacuate. To go with the medical emergencies." His voice was low, terse. Anger radiated through it. Gaze devouring her form as her wet clothes clung to every curve. Her straggling ponytail.

"I chose to stay. To finish this. Contrary to what you may believe, John, this intel is invaluable. Vital," she argued. Voice calm. She squatted near the corpse to gather the samples. "I'm almost finished with the basics. Are, are those things–"

"Dead? Yes. Every last one of them. No casualties on our end." He stared at her. Drops of water were running down her hair. The strands curling down to her breasts. She shivered at the cold touch and John could see her nipples pressing hard against the thin t-shirt. He scowled. Wanted her. Wanted her badly. Wanted to pull her into his arms, onto his body. Onto his mouth. Wanted to run his mouth under her shirt to savor the wetness, the fullness, the taste of her skin, the mist. Instead he kept silent.

Moira scooted back, turning to the corpse. A garment was placed around her shoulders, startling her. She glanced to see John's jacket enfolding her. John was standing close but moved to the front of the tent, peering out. Moira relaxed into the fabric, still warm from his body heat. The scent of him tickling her nose. It was almost as if his arms were around her. She stared at him. Drenched with water. Clothes clinging to his long, lean frame. Drops sparkled in his hair. One trickle ran from his brow, down his sideburn, down his jaw, down his long throat. She longed to lick the water, the skin, to taste him. But she stood.

John turned back to her as his jacket was shoved at him. "Here. I don't need your jacket or your concern. You dumped me, remember?"

"Fine! Freeze that pert little ass. See if I care!" He pulled on his jacket as she returned to her work. "Stay here!" he snarled, stepping out of the tent. If only to be free of the temptation. The anger masking his concern, his love, his desire.

"Sir? Evacuation nearly complete. Orders?"

"Colonel, I do not agree with this evacuation!" Teyla stormed towards him. "Ronon has told me that the creatures are gone. All destroyed. If that is so why is it necessary to–"

"Because I said so!" John bellowed. "I just want to be sure, that's all. A night in Atlantis won't hurt anyone, now will it?" he asked in a more reasonable tone.

"You have no right to decide the fate of my people!"

"If one more person questions my orders I will shoot them!" he flared. "Is that clear? Good! Teyla, please go with your people to Atlantis and get them settled. Ronon, do a last perimeter check of the beach. Reynolds, you have a go. Jumpers two and three are cleared for transport."

Moira heard John's voice. Strident. Terse. Angered. But it made her react in a very different way. Made her want him. Want to take that anger and turn it to passion. As if to tame a wild animal. She sighed, shoved the feelings away. Stood as he abruptly entered the tent.

"Are you finished, doctor?"

"Almost, colonel. What happened to your eye?"

"Ronon. I had to deck him and he, um, retaliated."

"Oh. Good."

"Good?" he questioned, raising a brow.

"Yes. It's about time someone knocked some sense into that pretty head of yours. I couldn't ask Evan to do it."

"Oh. Thanks. Thanks a lot, Moira." He considered. "You know, baby, we could just have sex. Just sex. No complications now."

She glared at him. "And you'd like nothing better than that, wouldn't you, sweetie? No. I can't have sex with you. I can't have sex with you because I love you."

"Huh? That doesn't make any sense, Moira."

"Oh, it does. It makes about as much sense as you dumping me because you're in love with me," she explained. Bitterness in her voice. "What is it, John? What are you afraid of?"

"I told you, damn it! I get feelings and it gets fucked up."

"No." She tapped his chest. "What is it, John? What compels you to dump me even though you love me. Or you say you love me. John, what is it?"

"I'm not having this conversation, Moira. Grab your gear." He moved towards the tent entrance but she grabbed his arm.

"No! John, please! You have to tell me. There has to be more to this! John, I love you! You say you love me. So what is it? Why do you feel the need to destroy this? To destroy us?" She tried to keep the desperation out of her tone. The sorrow.

"I'm not having this conversation, Moira," he repeated tersely. Freed his arm. "Let's go. Now!" He stepped out of the tent, unable, unwilling to look at her. The mist enveloped him. He hated to hurt her. To hurt himself. Knew he would acquiesce, rush to her, unable to resist one tear, one look, one more plea. One more touch. Wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let her go. But he denied his feelings. Drowned them. He strode away but paused, looked back. She was not behind him. "Moira?" Cursing he returned to the tent.

Moira was frozen in place. Hugging herself against the cold. Against the tumult of emotions. Forcing herself to be strong. To not cry. To not rush after him, or plead. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a single tear, but knew he wouldn't be satisfied. Far from it. She knew he was as miserable as she was. Making his actions all the more baffling. As he stepped in she spoke quickly, heading off his anger. "I'm staying."

"What?" he stared. "Don't be ridiculous, Moira!"

"Go! Go back to Atlantis! I'll stay here with the specimen and gather all that I can before it starts to decompose. Since you refuse to allow it into the city I'll stay here and–"

"And what? Freeze to death? No. You are coming with me now. We can come back tomorrow for it."

"No! The tissues will be too degraded by then. This is our only chance at a viable specimen! So go! Go! I'll be fine here. I 've got a gun," she pointed at the 9mm lying near the kit. "Send Carson to me when he is available. Or Evan."

"No! No one remains on the mainland until I am absolutely certain the threat has been eliminated. That includes you, Moira."

"What are you going to do? Use a gun on me?" she taunted.

"No." He stepped closer to her. "I will carry you out of here. So either grab your kit and get that pert little ass to the Jumper or I swear I will sling you over my shoulder and carry you there," he promised, voice low. Eyes traveling along her body. Pausing at her breasts. She was still hugging herself and inadvertently shoving them together, up, the hard nipples pressing against the wet t-shirt. An underlying excitement made him shift his stance ever so slightly.

"You wouldn't dare," she challenged. Feeling a surge of arousal. His anger and passion radiating off his body. His intense green glare, smouldering on her.

He met her gaze at last. "Wouldn't I? Care to try me?"

Moira swallowed. Had no doubt he would do it. Could feel him hoisting her over his shoulder. Hands on her body, keeping her in place. Strong arms secure around her. Pressing her to that long, lean, muscled body. She suddenly noticed his eyes lowering yet again, and dropped her arms to her sides, embarrassed. Annoyed. "Stop staring!" She grabbed the samples, shoved them into the kit along with the gun. Pushed past him, into him, swinging the kit to nearly knock him off-balance. "Fucking soldier!" she muttered as she moved out of the tent.

John smirked. "Scientist," he muttered like it was an insult. Following on her heels. Disappointed and relieved all at once. Had wanted to fling her over his shoulder. To feel her body squirming on his, in his grasp, at his mercy. Knew he could have turned that anger into hot, passionate sex. But he had broken up with her.

He nearly chased her into the waiting Jumper. Up the ramp and into the vessel. He slammed the hatch closed. Moira set down her kit, whirled as John shoved his jacket at her. "Here! Put it on! Too fucking distracting!" he complained. He stormed past her to the front of the ship.

Moira smirked, but pulled on the jacket as shivers enfolded her. She sat in the co-pilot's seat, snuggling into the material. Into the warmth left by John's body.

John powered the ship. Glanced at her to see her covered. He guided the ship up, up and over the mainland. Towards the ocean and the city. Veered back suddenly, causing Moira to sway in the seat at the unexpected turn.

"John?"

"Mopping up." He flew back to the beach. White bodies bobbed in the waves. Struck the shore. He fired. Drones skidded along the water, fizzing violently. A killing line causing the water to steam and blend with the mist.

"John, what are you doing? You'll kill everything!" Moira objected.

"That's the idea, Moira."

"But the–"

"Don't care." Checking the scans he nodded, satisfied. Flew towards the tent. Vaporized it and the corpse with a couple of drones. Creating a hole that flung dirt and rocks into the sky.

"John! No! We needed that!" Moira protested, angered. Shocked.

"You said it would be too decomposed, right? The Athosians don't need to come back to that." He veered again, accelerating in both speed and altitude. "This is Sheppard," he snarled into the radio. "We're incoming. Prep. Ow!" he complained as she hit his shoulder.

"What the hell is wrong with you, John? You–"

"You disobeyed a direct order, baby. As did your buddy Lorne. There are repercussions for that. And don't think I won't take note of that."

"What? So you decided to decimate the ocean's organisms? Don't you dare blame Evan for any of this! Blame me! You're being unreasonable, John! You're being an idiot!"

"Am I? So are you, Moira, so just shut up, will you? Ow!" he protested as she hit him again.

"Cut that out!"

"Or what? You'll spank me? You can't, colonel, because you dumped me. You dumped me!"

"Won't stop me from spanking you, doctor. From spanking that pert little ass so cut it out!" he flared, annoyed and turned on all at once. Knew she felt the same. Cursed to himself.

Moira stared, about to speak but didn't. Anger and passion colliding. John's husky voice, his tense fury only making him sexier. Only making her want him. It took all of her self-control not to launch herself onto him. She cursed to herself. Felt a wave of tears.

John glanced at her. Saw passion. Anger. Sorrow. Welcomed the first two but regretted the third. He had to look away from her. Her threatened tears would undo his resolve. Just as her desire could. And his. He gripped the controls tightly and flew them silently into the city.


	6. Chapter 6

Territoriality6

Once the Jumper had landed in the bay Moira jumped out of her seat. She grabbed her kit and marched to the hatch to open it, even before John had finished powering down the ship. She froze on the ramp, feeling John behind her. So close his breath tickled her cheek. She stumbled down the ramp, paused again. Elizabeth was waiting, arms crossed in front of her chest. Carson stood next to her.

"John, don't move! I need to go back to retrieve the specimen for–"

"No need, Carson," John answered, stepping round to stand next to Moira. "It's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Carson asked, looking from one to the other. Mystified.

"I destroyed it. Final sweep of the perimeter," he informed.

"What?" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Why? We needed that specimen! You destroyed a valuable asset! What were you thinking?" She glanced at Moira, suspicious.

Before John could reply Moira said, "The colonel had no choice. It was a danger."

"A danger? How so?" Carson asked, brows furrowed in puzzlement.

All eyed Moira, including John. Moira shoved her cold hands into the pockets of the jacket. "Danger of contact. Those Wraith were more powerful, especially when communicating with each other. A true hive mind, given their isolation and inbreeding. And even after death the possibility did exist that they could somehow reanimate the corpse. We've seen this before. In fact I suspect they would have attempted to collect their dead, not from any sentimental reason but to preserve what knowledge the brain possessed."

Elizabeth was frowning. "Carson?" she asked, turning to the doctor for confirmation.

Carson smoothly stated, "Yes, those are very valid reasons, Moira. The colonel acted most precipitously. And we have more than enough tissue samples to construct a partial DNA sequence, and compare it to the Wraith we know."

Moira nodded imperceptibly. "Yes, of course. I'll get these samples to cold storage right away and we can begin," she offered, stepping back towards the ramp to circle round the ship.

As Carson explained to Elizabeth John stepped to Moira. He asked quietly, "Was any of that–"

"True?" she completed softly. "No. Not one word. And that's the last time I save that fine, fine ass of yours, John. Next time you'll need to find a..." Her voice trailed off as her fingers skimmed something silky in the pocket of his jacket.

John smirked as her expression changed. Puzzlement. Realization. Consternation. Anger. She glanced down to pull a bit from the pocket. To see a lilac satin fabric. Recognized a pair of her panties. She met his gaze. He smiled. "Can I have my jacket back, please?" He held out his hand expectantly. Smirked. Knew full well she couldn't remove her panties from his pocket in front of everyone.

Moira glanced at Elizabeth and Carson. They were watching them. She shoved the fabric back into the pocket. Yanked off the jacket and flung it at him after setting down her kit. She grabbed the kit, swung it at him as she passed him, knocking into him again. "Pervert!" she hissed under her breath.

John smiled. "Trophy," he said under his breath. Watched her leave with angry strides. Carson followed her. Smoothly he stepped to Elizabeth. "I presume you want Carson to take a look at me?"

"Yes. What happened to your eye?" she asked tiredly.

"Ronon. Long story. Well, short story, really. I'll go now. And get those reports done."

**************************************************************************

John sauntered into the infirmary, plopped onto a bed to sit. He looked round. Did not see Moira. Wondered. Turned as Carson walked over to him. "Hey, doc. It's nothing. Just a black eye from Ronon. I clipped his jaw, so we're even. What?" The doctor's dour expression and silence puzzled him.

"Fine. Go. Get out."

"Carson?" John was taken aback by the doctor's attitude. "What's wrong? You...oh crap," he realized.

"Yes, John. Don't worry, though, Moira didn't say a word. Not one. But I could tell she's been through hell, and it has nothing to do with the mission. I sent her to get a bite to eat. Well?"

"I'm not having this conversation," he sulked. But added reluctantly, "It's for the best."

"Don't be an idiot, John! Whatever is the problem fix it! Don't you dare break that girl's heart over some petty trifle! Do you hear me? Whatever is the problem it means nothing! You love her! She loves you! That is all that matters!"

"It's not that simple, doc, it–"

"Then get out of my infirmary! And don't come back until you've sorted this bloody thing! And if you do break her heart I'll never forgive you!"

John scooted off the bed, surprised at the doctor's animosity. His perception. Several retorts flew to his lips but he scowled in silence. Headed for the cafeteria. He grabbed a tray. Filled it with food. Sat alone and picked at it. Not hungry. Drank a beer, wanting nothing more than to be alone. To be left alone.

"Here you are!" Rodney sat across from him. "What happened to you? Oh, yes. Ronon." Rodney grinned.

"Ha ha," John replied. Drank. "It seems that all of the women of Atlantis are pissed at me. And so is Carson."

"Huh. Well, that's a change for you, isn't it? Although I can't imagine Carson being angry with anyone. Unless you refuse to go fishing with him but then he gets all pouty and tries to–"

"What do you mean, a change?" John asked, voice low. Anger threading his words.

Rodney appeared oblivious. "Just that normally they are falling over themselves to please you, to catch your eye. You know. Come to think of it Moira didn't seem too keen for movie night, but I had to remind her again that she's the one bringing the movie so she has to come."

"When you did you do all this talking to Moira?"

"A few minutes ago. She didn't have much of an appetite either. What is with you two? Is that why you are sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," he replied sourly.

"You are! Ah ha! Did she dump you? That explains a lot. Geez, John, your timing is terrible! Or rather hers. Well, guess you won't be showing up for movie night. Are you going to finish that?" He pointed.

"No." John stood. "Have at it. And I'm not sulking!"

*************************************************************************

John walked into the darkened room just as Moira was leaning over to insert the DVD into the machine. He smiled, gaze locked onto her rear encased in the brown pants she wore. As she straightened he perused the chairs, the occupants of the chairs as the black and white movie began. Debated where to sit as Moira moved out of the way of the flickering images on the big screen. The scents of popcorn and beer mingled in a tantalizing aroma.

Moira paused. Saw John lingering in the doorway. She hesitated. Uncertain. Stood waiting to see where he would sit. She folded her arms under her breasts, watched the movie absently. Finally took a chair and sat. She glanced at Evan who was watching her. She shrugged.

John finally chose a seat a row behind Moira. Lounged lazily but he felt tense. Uncertain. Smiled absently at the blond woman seated next to him who was eying him. The movie forgotten now. He wished he had some popcorn. Saw that Evan had handed Moira a plastic bowl full of it. Watched her eat some. He leaned over her shoulder. Reached over to snatch a handful.

"Hey!" She turned, met his gaze. "John?"

"Sorry. Hungry."

"John..." She glanced at the woman next to him. "Oh, sorry, colonel. I didn't realize you were on a date." She turned back to the movie.

John rolled his eyes, but smiled at the woman again. "Hi. Don't mind her. You know how pissy scientists can be."

"Not as pissy as soldiers," she retorted. "Stop it!" she flared as he leaned and snatched another big handful of popcorn. "Get your own, damn it!"

"Why? I can take yours whenever I want," he replied smugly. "Any time I–"

"Not any more! Sorry," she lowered her voice as people glanced at her. She looked at Evan. "Sorry. It's nothing."

"Quiet back there! We're trying to watch the film!" Rodney complained, looking over his shoulder. He shook his head. Turned back to the movie. Katie glanced at Moira, concern on her face. She turned back to the screen as Moira shook her head.

John waited. Finding a strange enjoyment in baiting her. Wanting her. He leaned over and grabbed another handful but Moira smacked his hand. "Ow!"

"Stop it! Let go! Let go of my popcorn, damn it!" she snapped. Snatching the bowl out of his reach but he grabbed the rim of the bowl. "John! You have to let go!"

"I know, I know, but it's so fucking hard to let go," he said into her ear. Tugging the bowl as she tried to hold onto it.

"And whose fault is that?" She freed it suddenly. The bowl spun, flew out of her grasp. Out of his as he released it. It crashed to the floor. Popcorn spilled. "Damn it! Now look what you've done?" She rose, whirled. "Do you have any idea what you've done, John Sheppard? Do you? Do you know what you've done?"

"Easy, Moira, it's only popcorn," Evan soothed, but knew it was more. Much more judging by the tone of her voice. The sparkle of tears in her eyes.

"It's for the best," John retorted.

"Then leave me the hell alone!" She fled the room.

"Sir? Is there something–" Evan began, about to follow.

"Leave her! I said leave it, major!" John ordered. Kicking the bowl across the floor. He stood, strode after her. He caught sight of her in the hallway. "Moira! Damn it, Moira!" He sprinted but she flew into a transporter. Was gone. He waited, followed in another one. Tracking her movements as if she was a quarry he was hunting.

Moira rushed to the biology lab, ran inside. Whirled to close the door but John was there, rushing across the threshold. Blocking the door with his hand as she tried to close it on him. "Go away! What is with you, John? You dumped me, remember? So fuck off!"

"There's no need to be rude, Moira," he chided, shoving the door aside. She stumbled backwards, out of his reach.

"What do you want? No!" She held up a hand. "Don't tell me! Just go! Go!" She pointed to the door he had closed. "Go!"

"No. I don't take orders from you. Look, Moira...we–"

"Don't you get it, John? There is no we! Because you can't handle us! Can't handle any kind of emotional bond! You–"

He grabbed her, pushed her across the room, into the wall. Kissed her. Hard. Mouth all but devouring hers. Gentling the kiss as she murmured. Hands sliding up his chest. But she shoved him away from her. Stared.

"John?"

"I...sorry." He stepped back from her. "I...damn it, Moira, I can't just...I knew this was going to be a messy break-up. I should have done it months ago. Fuck, I never have this much trouble." He glanced round the darkened room. The idle equipment. To Moira who was staring at him, caught between anger and desire. Sorrow and hope. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Sorry? For what, John? For loving me? For wanting me? John..." she moved to him, touched his arm. Ran her fingers gently up and down, up and down, as if to tame a wild animal. "Did you mean it? Do you really want to break up with me? Maybe, maybe it was just a reaction. A knee-jerk reaction because of, of what you feel for me. What I feel for you. You don't have to run, John. This doesn't have to end."

"I'm afraid it does, Moira," he stubbornly insisted. Reluctant yet determined. "It will only get worse. Trust me. You...you don't want to love me. Not the way you do now. You don't know me, Moira. You don't know how fucked up I really am."

"You can't be as fucked up as I am, John," she retorted. Sighed. "Maybe, maybe you're right. If you knew what I..." She let her gaze drop to the floor. "You wouldn't love me after that."

"I would. But if you knew what I've done...what I did...what I lost..." He lifted her face to his. Gently kissed her lips. "You're wrong, Moira. I do have to run. This does have to end. You and I...this will never work. Not with all the emotion between us. So yeah...it's better we do this now. Okay? Now let's go back and watch the film."

"You mean pretend that everything's okay? When it's not? I don't understand, John. This does work because of all the emotion between us. Why can't you see that? Look, I know that neither of us was looking for this. For a relationship or anything but we–"

"No. We weren't. So this ends now. It won't be easy, Moira, but it's for the best. Okay? I'm not good at this kind of thing. All this stuff. Okay? It always backfires. Always goes wrong and I want to spare you that. Okay?"

She shook her head. "No, John, it's not okay! You–"

"Give it a few days. I'll be going off-world soon so it will be easier for the both of us. All right? I'm going back to the movie. You do whatever you want."

"John? John!" But he was gone. Striding out of the room.

She let him go.


End file.
